I’ve always had ambition,
Dreams, plans to make a difference.
When I was little,
I was going to be a nurse.
Because nurses are nice to little girls.
And then I realized how hard it was to hold small things,
*looking at you needles 👁*
I saw no ceiling on my dreams,
No misconceptions about who and what I am.
But, all of those things grow quickly,
The older a person with a disability gets.
I could live on a calm and quiet life,
Accepting victory after losing my twenties to hospitals and surgery
But, something drives me,
Even in the face of,
“We have places for people like her.”
“You don’t really want that.”
“We can carry your walker up the stairs..”
“Their is no way you can learn to do that. “
“Who helps you do your work? “
And the unspoken implications will go on.
But, such is the price of my ambition,
The weight of passion and dreams.
I don’t want to be a martyr,
I want to get to the bench,
And, here I am, in a world not welcoming to bodies like mine.
And I will succeed, regardless.